


Time to Breathe

by Pimento



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel & Charlie Bradbury Friendship, Castiel!whump, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Lives, Charlie Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Ships It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Castiel, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Teenagers, past abusive relationships, song prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6958150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pimento/pseuds/Pimento
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <img/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>tumblr:  SPN Writing Challenge May 2016.<br/>Songs:  Breathe (2am) - Anna Nalick  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHEj4cRhm3E</p><p>Alternative Universe.  Charlie Bradbury is caught in the middle, trying to hold herself and everyone else together.</p><p>It's so damned angsty, that's how the fic ended up...</p><p>Sorry, not sorry :-D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lawrence Kansas: 20th January, 2010 2:03 am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics:
> 
> 2 AM and he calls me 'cause I'm still awake,  
> "Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,  
> I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"

**Lawrence Kansas: 20th January, 2010.**

Charlie groaned as the bedside table rattled under the vibrating phone, she'd given up on sleeping tonight, but she had at least been dozing.  She threw herself over beneath her tangled bed clothes as the melody started to kick in and reached groggily onto the side table.  Bright blue eyes stared at her from under a mop of dark untidy hair, the handsome face etched in the sunlight shining on the smiling features of the image on her screen.  She glanced at her bedside clock’s blinking green digits, as she swiped accept, 2:03am.

"S'up bitch," she slurred good-naturedly despite the hour.  Her heart froze as she heard the pained breathing at the other end of the line.  "Cas?"  she could hear the alarm creeping into her own voice.

"Charlie," his relief was palpable, even down the cell line.  "I'm sorry, Charlie, I didn't know who else..."  She heard him draw in a deep breath, taking control of himself with real effort.  "I need your help," his voice broke into a subtle, barely heard sob.

She was already on her feet grabbing clothes, adrenalin coursing through her.  Cas was normally so self-contained, his emotions held in close check.  "Where are you?"

 

She drove like a maniac, the heater blasting hot air into her tiny battered old car.  The wipers fought valiantly against the snow which had been falling softly all evening.

She saw his hunched figure, picked out in the sweep of a passing cars headlights, at the edge of the parking lot, and pulled to the side of the road.  Her relief at seeing him was short lived as she realised that not only was he not wearing a coat, but he had no shoes on either.  She grabbed the blanket from her passenger seat and jumped from the car.

Even in the sparse light cast on his face from her car’s meagre interior bulb, she could see he was a mess.  A bruise blossoming deep purple across his cheek bone, and there were traces of blood everywhere.  “Carl did this?”  He nodded miserably, wincing as she threw the blanket around his shoulders and helped him towards the car.  She stared down at his blueing feet.  "Jesus, Cas, you'll be lucky not to get frostbite."

He curled into a foetal position in her passenger seat, shivering uncontrollably.  "You should be in the ER," she said flatly, but he shook his head vehemently.  "Please, Charlie, just get me away from here."  He groaned as she pulled the seat belt round him, worrying her more about what lay under his clothes. 

"S'OK Cas, I'll take you home."  He tensed and she cursed herself.  "To my place," she added.  "I just meant back to Lawrence."  She shook her head, her plans to check into the motel she had seen just off the highway abandoned.  Indicating and ducking down to look in her mirrors, she pulled the little car out onto the snow covered street.

Gradually the sound of chattering teeth diminished and then ceased, and she risked a glance at him, his face was twisted in pain, and his brow, where it wasn’t bloody, was slick with sweat.  He leant back in the seat, eyes tightly closed.  They had been driving for nearly 15 minutes before he broke the silence. 

“Stop, Charlie, stop the car,” his voice was so panicked she swung onto the shoulder, and the door swung hard back onto its hinges, as he bent double and retched and retched.  She slid out of her belt, heart pounding with alarm.  “I’m OK,” he muttered, pulling the door shut.  “s’just the shock.”

She passed him a bottle of water and the codeine she'd brought with her.  “Cas, I’d feel so much better if you’d just let me take you to the clinic.  Just to get you checked over, I can dress some of this stuff, but if there’s internal…” she could not bring herself to finish the sentence and the implication hung heavily in the atmosphere in the car.

He turned back towards her, meeting her gaze only briefly, before his eyes slid away, humiliation seeping from every pore.  "I think I do need to get tested."  He swallowed awkwardly close to tears again. "He didn't...not this time," instinctively she grabbed his hands and he gripped back like a man hanging over an abyss, "but he didn't always ask… you know… and he was… it turns out he was cheating on me… that’s what started the argument.  God, I'm such an idiot, I've never loved him, but somehow it was easier staying..."

She pulled him gently toward her and he dropped his head into her lap too numb to cry.  She murmured meaningless comforts into his hair until the codeine took effect and he fell asleep, she carried on the journey with him curled against her. 

 

By the time they reached her apartment block, he was beginning to seize up, and they staggered together as she threw his arm over her shoulder to help him walk to the elevator.  She insisted on dragging him to the bathroom.  He sat on the toilet, cradling his head in his hands while she set the shower running to warm it up and set to systematically stripping him of his clothes.

“You’d be crap at poker, Charlie.” 

She frowned at him. “Bitch, please, you know I learnt poker from the best.”

“Yeah, well, I can read you like a book.  I’m bruised and battered, but I’m still breathing.  And it could have been worse.”

“I still think you should go to the cops,” she admitted quietly, “but you know, no matter what you decide, I’ve got your back.”

"I didn't exactly roll over and play punchbag, Charlie. It would be my word against his and he has 'friends.'" He winced as he lowered himself into a squat. "S'not an option." Charlie tried to keep the worry out of her face, as he sat naked in her bath tub with the shower water running a muted red along the white ceramic into the plughole. 

He sat quiet and uncomplaining as she fussed over him.  She’d used steri strips to close the split above his eye and he smelt slightly of antiseptic where she had daubed every cut and graze, before bandaging.  “I look like a mummy,” he grumbled, and she had been so relieved to hear him make even a crap joke.

"You don't have to come with me tomorrow," he said, for the umpteenth time.

"Don't be silly," she said softly.  "I still think we should have gone straight to ER, and the cops, but I told you I’d back you no matter what you decided to do, so of course, I'm coming.”  He smiled at her, the puffy split lip turning it into a mild leer.  “Besides how else are you gonna get your sorry ass across town for 9 in the morning?  You're hardly a morning person at the best of times!"

He huffed slightly, but then he gave a rueful smile.  "I've not exactly noticed you catching zeds at any reasonable hour."  He stared pointedly at the wall clock, ticking away the early morning with a steady rhythm. 

"No," she admitted, but added teasingly, "but when you work in IT, it's always daytime somewhere and I do at least get out of bed before midday..."


	2. Freemont Sexual Health Centre, 20th January, 2010, 8:55am.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics:
> 
> Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes  
> Like they have any right at all to criticize,  
> Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

Even after three cups of strong coffee, he looked barely awake, as they pulled into the lot outside the clinic, she glanced across at him as he sat impassively in the passenger seat. His face looked worse today, the bruising coming out in livid purples and blues. 

She parked as close as she could get to the doors, and they made their way inside.

The chairs were uncomfortable, hard plastic, and the place was cold and comfortless. Someone had at least made an effort, a couple of less than spectacular art prints hung on the wall, and Charlie itched to straighten them. 

Two women were sat waiting to be seen, Charlie caught the exchange of disapproving looks that passed between them, and she wondered whether Cas had noticed. He leant awkwardly against the counter giving his details to the receptionist. A young woman sat with her boyfriend, flicked her gaze away as Charlie stared her down. Hypocrites, she thought fiercely, there’s only one reason to be here, and you are here too! The receptionist, a woman Charlie thought she recognised from somewhere, maybe even school all those years ago, gave them an odd look, but checked him in with cool professionalism.

They waited on the uncomfortable chairs, until a dark haired nurse appeared. “Castiel Novak,” she called. He stood up awkwardly and shuffled towards her. Charlie was relieved to see that despite the initial look of mild shock as she took in the state of his face, the nurse had quickly rearranged her features into a wide smile. “This way Mr. Novak.”

Charlie picked up her phone and scrolled through her messages. She hovered briefly over Dean, wondering whether she should let him know Cas was back in town, but it felt awkward. It definitely wasn’t her call to make, she wished they would talk, the two of them, but the accident had changed everything, for all of them.

 

_They had formed a strange gang as children, the three of them._

_Eleven year old Charlie Bradbury, newly orphaned, living in a strange town with foster parents, who weren’t unkind, but could not compare to parents who had loved and been loved so deeply. Awkward and a little geeky, with bright red hair, grieving hard, she was a bully magnet, so naturally she made friends with the only other weirdo in her class, a socially awkward, fat little kid called Castiel Novak, living with an older brother, who found him a nuisance, no mention ever made of his parents._

_Then at some point in that first semester during the lunch break, she had come into the sunlight with her food unsteadily balanced on a blue plastic tray, looking for Cas, when a taller slightly gangly boy knocked her arm as he came past and her drink fell. He caught it with surprising agility, mumbling his apologies._

_And that was Sam Winchester, taller than he should be and a bit of a klutz. He held onto her drink and cleared his throat. “You’re new, right? I’m Sam, where are you sitting?”_

_She nodded towards Cas in the far corner of the lunch quad, sat on his coat on the grassy bank, reading his kindle, absent-mindedly chewing on his lunch. Before she could say or do anything Sam was striding ahead of her and plonking himself down next to Cas. And that was it, the three of them. The orphans, as some of the less kind of their classmates labelled them, whilst not strictly accurate, with the mix of dead and absent parents, it was close enough. It stuck. Not that anyone dared pick on them too much once Sam was their friend. Sam’s brother Dean was a bad ass. Nobody messed with Dean and the protective concern he showed to his brother, quickly extended to Cas and Charlie. Even when he left school, being four years older than them all, his reputation kept them safe._

_The three of them spent the hours out of school, roaming around town, with no-one except Dean, giving a damn where they were or what they were up to. More often than not, when he knocked off work from Bobby’s, Dean would find them, or take them on hikes, or drive them out of town in his Baby. They would fight over who got to ride shotgun in the Impala, rolling their eyes, but secretly quite enjoying the classic rock, that became the soundtrack of their teens._

_Cas would turn up periodically with bruises, and always fobbed them off with excuses, about his clumsiness, making jokes about his limbs growing quicker than his brain could keep up as he stretched from fat little boy into gangly, angular teenager. Dean would look at him, green eyes focussed and narrowed, lips pursed, not believing a word of it._

**August 12th, 2000 2:15pm**

_They had been fishing off the old pontoon one Saturday afternoon, another long hot summer day, much like any other, the sound of crickets chirping loudly around them in the dry brushwood. The heat had been building all week, and it was oppressive, the sun glinting up off the surface of the lake flickering across their faces when Sam had decided to strip and jump in. He called to them from a few feet away. “It’s gorgeous. Come on. Dean! Come on.”_

_His older brother glanced up, without lifting his head, one long gangly leg braced against the dirt, the other bent at the knee supporting his elbow. He was busy whittling a piece of wood. “I’ll stay landside,” he called, “just in case. You guys go in if you want to,” he nodded to Cas and Charlie, “I’ll watch over you.”_

_Charlie was in the water, before she really had time to consider what she was doing, but Cas hesitated, sitting tight on the decking. Sam swam strongly around his friend as she stood acclimatising to the stinging cool of the water, her toes squelching into the silt at the bottom. She squealed as a fish darted close, a flash of brilliant silver a few feet away. “Damn it,” she said, “we’ve not caught a single damn one all afternoon.”_

_“Obviously using the wrong bait,” Dean drawled lazily, “should have put you on the end of the line, kiddo.”_

_She splashed at him furiously, but missed completely and drenched Cas instead. He stood up, suddenly with a horrified look on his face. It was so out of character, but he shouted at her._

_“Hey,” Dean called sharply, “it was an accident, Castiel. And it’s only water.”_

_Cas stammered an apology, his cheeks flushing, he always hated to displease Dean. His blue eyes flew wide and then his head dipped. He grabbed his socks and shoes and started to walk hurriedly away. Sam rolled his eyes, and Charlie bit her lip trying not to cry. “I didn’t mean to splash you, Cas,” she called after him. “I’m sorry.”_

_“You watch out for Charlie, Sam. Stay near the shore. I’ll go sort Cas.” And Dean was gone, after him._

_Charlie screamed as Sam smashed the water with his fist, bringing up a wave of droplets that soaked her exposed back. Laughing, he dived back, from her attempt to retaliate. They started to play in the water, and she glanced back only briefly worrying about Cas, before she became engrossed in their games._

_They were sat legs dangling in the water, skin and underclothes drying slowly in the languid warm air of the early evening when Cas and Dean returned. Cas looked a little bashful, wearing one of Dean’s t-shirts instead of his usual white shirt, but he plonked an awkward kiss on Charlie’s bright red hair, mumbling, “Sorry, Charlie.”_

_“S’OK,” she smiled up at him, “but you owe me a shake!” She patted the deck next to her, and he dropped down. The T-shirt was a little too big, and as it flared away from his slender hips, she caught sight of an angry looking red weal just above the line of his slacks. Cas never wore jeans, his older brother didn’t like them, so Cas didn’t have them._

_He dropped his shoes behind him, yanking off his socks and sighing contentedly began wriggling his toes in the water. In his hands he held a small wooden angel, crudely whittled, but recognisable, he turned it over and over in his hands. She glanced at him, noting the strange look on his face and the redness around his eyes. Her heart gave a little tug, and she looked away quickly so he didn’t notice her own tears._

_Dean whispered something to Sam, before pushing him forward into the lake, and laughing at his gasp and disgruntled, “hey.”_

_He turned away and started heading off. “I’ll see you back home for dinner,” he called over his shoulder._

_The kitchen was full of the scent of garlic and bread when they arrived back at the Winchester house. They were happily munching their way through piles of rich, doughy pizzas, when there was a sharp rapping at the front door. Dean dropped his napkin down, and stood slowly pushing his chair back. He winked at Charlie, and flicked them all with a smile. “That might be for me,” he said slowly. “Eat your pizza.” He gave Sam a more meaningful glance, and he nodded in return, looking tensely towards the door._

_The conversation in the hallway, although they could not properly hear it, was becoming heated, and there was the unmistakeable sound of a scuffle, followed by the thwack of a fist making contact. Cas suddenly froze. They had all recognised the voice. Raphael Novak, Cas’ brother._

_“I don’t give a damn,” Dean’s voice was low and mean. “He’s staying here, and so help me, you touch him again, I won’t be calling the cops, I’ll sort you myself, you sorry son of a bitch!”_

_Cas sat rigidly at the table, the blue eyes wide and terrified, he looked at them both, mouth dropping open slightly, fist gripping tightly around the wooden charm that had been lay next to his plate. Charlie seized his other hand, and Sam got to his feet, hand on Cas’ shoulder, standing protectively between him and the door._

_“You haven’t heard the last of this, Winchester.”_

_“Oh, I think I have. Now get out of my fucking house.”_

_A door slammed, and they all jumped, and then Dean came back into the kitchen. His face momentarily glowering, he saw Sam’s stance and his features split into the familiar beautiful smile. “OK, Sammy. I got good news and bad news.” They were all still too stunned to really respond. “Good news, you got someone to share chores with, the bad news, I suspect Novak snores and I ain’t going back to sharing a room.”_

 

The door to the consulting room was opening, bringing her back from her reverie. Cas appeared. He still looked tired, but a little less tense than he had before, a half smile playing on his chapped lips. Charlie stood up, but he turned and made his way to the counter. “I need a follow up, for two weeks time.” 

“No problem, Mr Novak,” the slight sneer in the tone was unmistakeable, despite the apparent saccharin of the smile.

 

“So,” Charlie said as she drove across town, “you’ll be here for at least two weeks. If you’re sticking around we should really tell…”

“No,” he shook his head.

“He’ll be pissed.”

“If it’s going to put you in an awkward position, I can book into a motel…”

“No chance, bitch. I want you where I can keep an eye on you, but…”

“I said NO, Charlie,” his voice sharpened.

“OK, OK, I told you, whatever you decide…”

“…you’ve got my back, I know.” He sat quietly for a few minutes. “You know the nurse was impressed with your bandaging skills, by the way. She was kind of cool. I think she was hitting on me.”

“Yeah, sure, the nurse in the VD clinic was hitting on you.”

“Seriously, I think she likes me. She said I was a unicorn.”

“A unicorn? Are you sure she wasn’t sniffing the novocaine, in between patients.”

They laughed, Cas holding his ribs, and wincing because smiling hurt his face. Charlie mildly hysterical with relief, that he was still whole, despite what had happened.


	3. 25th January, 2.10am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics:
> 
> 'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable  
> And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table  
> No one can find the rewind button, girl.  
> So cradle your head in your hands  
> And breathe... just breathe,  
> Oh breathe, just breathe

**25th January, 2.10am**

They had fallen into a comfortable pattern, Charlie had a few clients in town, so each day she went out, leaving Cas sleeping while she carried out the physical visits she needed to make, calling in to the stores for groceries and bits that Cas needed or whatever he asked for that day. 

The rest of the time she worked from home or remotely as much as she could, not wanting to leave him alone too much. He stayed in the apartment, spending his time curled up on the battered old couch, watching Netflix, healing slowly, stirring to bring her cups of coffee or cook them meals, coming alive with a pan in his hand, almost jiggling with excitement as she tried his latest recipe and then, come the early hours, when neither of them could sleep despite their fatigue, they talked, falling into the easy companionship built up over years of knowing each other almost better than they knew themselves.

 

“He’s a mess, you know.” Charlie interjected into a moment of companionable silence. They both knew who ‘he’ was.  
Cas’ body language changed, he tensed and she sighed, but pressed ahead. “It broke him Cas. Losing Sam,” her voice cracked, it was still too painful to think of, “it was the final straw. He always felt so responsible for us all. Not being there to protect Sam, when he could have…”

“Could have what? Been in the car instead? Jumped in front of the truck? We all loved Sam. He was our family, too.” He turned his head away. “Dean made his choice, we didn’t push him away. He left us.”

 

_The pain of the memory was still so intense. It had been horrific for her, the call in the middle of the night, standing in the hospital corridor. The panic, vibrant and tearing into her heart anew. She had not known how to bear it, again. She had dug her fingers so hard into her own arms that she left little crescent shaped cuts in her own skin with her nails._

_And to watch Dean closing down before her very eyes, as she stood helpless and bereft. He’d been so proud of Sam, his free-ride at Stanford, his internship. Then the call, that damned call, as they waited anxiously wondering why he was so late coming back from the drive through, the call that sent them rushing to the hospital._

_She had been so relieved to see Cas, as he rushed through the doors, driving back through the night from college to get to them after she had blurted out the news over the phone. He had arrived just in time for the doctor in his scrubs to appear, his face and body language giving them all the information they needed. Both of them instinctively turning to Dean, only to hear the deafening bang and then see the aftermath of the punch as he knocked the viewing glass clean out of the door, striding away, leaving them to console each other._

_Those first few weeks had been unbearable. The funeral, well-meaning people, saying well-meaning things. And Dean announcing flatly that he was leaving. The army. Refusing to talk about it. As cold and closed as the house looked after he boxed up all of Sam’s things and emptied the rooms of his childhood home._

_Her last hope, that Cas would get through where she had failed. She remembered standing outside on the porch, listening to them argue, while she stood powerless and vulnerable, watching her family fall apart._

 

“I tried, Charlie, but he wouldn’t listen. He was so determined to leave Lawrence. It’s hard enough for me to be around him anyway, you know why I can’t bear to watch him destroy himself.”

“But you’ve never told him why.”

“How can I tell him?” He raised his face towards her and the resigned look that rested on his face was agony to her. Poor, poor Cas. “I didn’t know myself for such a long time and he… he’s never shown any interest in me that way. It’s taken me seven years to realise that I was trying to replace him with every single boyfriend I ever had. He..." he swallowed, his voice breaking slightly, "...Dean doesn’t owe me anything. He took care of me, when I needed it the most. I wish he'd let me do the same for him, but he won't. I can’t live my life in the shadow of something that can never be.” 

He swallowed hard, squeezing her hand. “I'll be OK now Charlie, I promise I will. This was my wake up call. I can't believe I let history repeat itself. It felt like it was all I deserved. But I’m not gonna be anyone’s punch bag ever again. I owe Dean and Sam that much. I just kinda forgot what they both taught me, and went on a self-destruct for a while there.”


	4. 31st January, 2010  2:25am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics:
> 
> There's a light at each end of this tunnel,  
> You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out  
> And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again  
> If you'd only try turning around.

**31st January, 2010 2:25am**

Charlie sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, even the heady mixture of caffeine and the thrill of the challenge wasn’t working tonight. She loved her work, but she wasn’t feeling it, she just wanted to go find Cas.

She had known something was really wrong as she walked through the door just in time for lunch carrying bags of groceries and spitting her keys from her mouth onto the table by the door, calling out to Cas for help when she noticed the note propped up on the counter. She grabbed it. He had so little with him, but the few things they had bought to tide him over were gone.

The note was short. _I needed space, you know why. I can’t stay with you now. Cas._

She grabbed her phone and rang, it made no sense. The call rang out before cutting to answerphone. So she rang it again. After three more attempts, she left a message. “I don’t know, Cas, but I will try and understand. Please just let me know you’re OK. I can understand you need time, but you’re safe here.” She shut the phone, the worry that maybe Carl had found him, why else would he run? She sat down on her saggy comfortable old couch, the groceries discarded.

She tried on and off for the rest of the day and evening. Leaving several slightly frantic messages. Time stretched. Then finally, finally he sent her a text. _I’m safe. I just can’t talk to you right now._

She replied with shaking hands. _OK, I’m here when you’re ready to talk._

_I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t feel I can trust you anymore._

She stared at her phone, feeling sick. She and Cas, no matter what, they had always talked. She had to find him, she turned back to the laptop and pushed her guilt about invasion of privacy and abusing her skills aside. She had to find him.

 

She’d never heard of Dreams Motel, and when she cruised her little car into the parking lot, she decided she never wanted to go there again. It was a grubby little hell hole on decidedly the wrong side of town. 

She glanced at her watch, and tried one last time to ring him. The phone rang twice and then kicked to answerphone. So he was awake. Sighing, knowing that he was going to be even more pissed that she had used her skills to track him down, she got out of the car and walked leaden footed to the door of Room 22.

She knocked, waited impatiently and then rang his phone again. The ringtone was unmistakeable through the door.

“I know you’re in there, Cas. Please open the door.”

“Charlie,” he sounded furious even before the door was properly open. It was always a shock to hear anger from Cas. He hardly ever raised his voice, or showed aggression. He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the room, fingers biting harshly into her upper arm. “What the hell are you doing? It’s not safe wandering about out here alone at this time of night…” He shook his head in exasperation. 

She bit her lip, blanching it in an effort to fight back her tears. “I couldn’t just leave it. I don’t understand why you left.”

His mouth was a tight line of anger and he wouldn’t look at her. “Dean came.” His voice was full of accusation. She was so stunned, her mouth fell open. “He came to your place, he knew, Charlie. He knew everything. You promised me Charlie. You said you had my back, and then you went behind it.”

She stared at him, eyes wide. “I didn’t… I promised you… I wouldn’t…Are you OK?”

The piercing blue eyes flashed across her face. “No-one else knows,” he said softly, but there was doubt in his voice. She smiled weakly, she knew her best friend well, he must know she would never betray him. “He knew all about the clinic, and the tests…” A slow look of realisation spread across his face, pushing high spots of pink into his cheeks. “Oh my God, the clinic. Someone must have seen me at the clinic. He must have guessed I’d be at yours. Charlie, I am so sorry.”

She threw her arms round his neck, ignoring his gasp of pain as she squeezed his healing ribs, and caught his bruises. “Boy, you owe me a shake, at least a double.” He held her tight, murmuring his apologies as she wiped her eyes. “Now let’s get out of here, before we catch something, or get permanently stuck to this disgusting carpet. What the hell even is that smell?”

 

The diner was quiet before the breakfast rush. They sat opposite each other in the comfy booth in the corner that had been a favourite bolt hole for over a decade. When she felt under the edge of the seat, Charlie could still find the little hole in the banquette that she had picked with nervous teen fingers while she, Sam and Cas had told each other their deepest secrets and their silliest thoughts. Their hopes and dreams.

_“One day,” Cas said, glittering with quiet excitement the way he did sometimes with them, “We’re all going to go to New York at New Years. We’re going to stand in Time Square and the countdown is going to be so loud that we can feel it and not just hear it, and we’ll hug each other, and steal kisses from our lovers to keep us warm.”_

_She and Sam had laughed. “I’m serious,” he said, “I’ve always wanted to go, and I don’t want to be there without you guys.” He’d clambered up from his seat, hauling up his jeans which perpetually slipped down his hips and gone to put money in the old-fashioned juke box._

_“Steal kisses from our lovers, eh?” Sam had laughed, flashing her a glance through his floppy fringe. “I wonder who Cas would like to be committing grand larceny on…”_

_She had given him a questioning look. “Aw come on, I’m not stupid. I’ve seen how he is these days. You and I may share an interest in girls, but...” he shut up quickly as Cas returned, grinning in triumph as the steady thrash of Some Kind of Monster began to pulse through the diners speakers._

 

Cas made a loud slurping noise with his straw as he reached the bottom of his milkshake, dragging her back to the present. The diner was slowly filling around them, with customers and the smell of bacon, coffee and waffles. They talked about Sam, laughing and crying over the precious memories of their beloved friend.

Finally, she pushed her empty glass away, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“You could always just stay. I’ve always wanted a roomy who can cook, and you don’t snore that bad.” He kicked her affectionately under the table.

“I do need to find somewhere to live. I don’t want to go back to the city. It’s time to stop running, and the worst is over now. I’ve seen him, and it didn’t kill me. He wasn’t angry with me, he just seemed sad.”

“What did he say? Is he mad with me for not telling him?”

“Get real, like Dean could ever be mad with you, Charlie. To be honest, he didn’t say a lot. He just said he came to make sure I was OK. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight… I thought you’d forgotten your keys, I answered the door in just my shorts and it was Dean stood there.”

“We just kind of stared at each other, we barely spoke. He looked me up and down, and then pretty much made his excuses and left. I was so shocked and I thought…well you know… I was so busy being angry with you, I didn’t really think about anything except getting out of there. I’m so sorry, that I…”

“Cas, it’s forgotten. If you apologise one more time, I’ll take you back to that flea pit and dump you there!” 

He gave her a twisted little grin, his bruised face still not working quite properly.

“What are you gonna do about your stuff? Do you want me to go get it? I’m not letting you go alone.”

“I think we can safely assume that as I didn’t ‘get my scrawny ungrateful ass back where it belonged’ that Carl has carried out his threat and my stuff is either at the dump or a pile of ash in the yard.” He yawned, and rolled his neck.

“Let’s get you back,” Charlie said, sliding out of the booth and dropping a note to pay for the shakes. “You look absolutely beat again.”


	5. 1st February, 2010 1.30am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics:
> 
> "Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,  
> "Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."  
> Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,  
> But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,  
> 

**1st February, 2010 1.30am**

Her phone rattled across the table next to the laptop and she grabbed it quickly, glancing up to where Cas lay on the couch. The eerie light from the TV flickered over his peaceful face as he slept. She headed towards the kitchen, answering it quietly, as soon as she shut the door gently behind her.

"Charlie, it's Benny... Darlin, you might wanna make your way over here."

She sighed. "Dean?"

"Uhuh... he's on his second bottle...Our boy is a mess." He paused, correcting himself. "More of a mess than usual."

**Gables Bar 2.00am**

The bar was busy for a week day night, but there was a noticeable lack of people around this corner. As if someone had set up an exclusion zone. It radiated from the figure who was hunched over the counter leaning heavily on his elbows. His heavy booted feet bent over on the floor even from the high stool, his denim clad legs bunching under him.

Charlie sighed as she walked over, glancing with resignation at the half empty bottle on the dark mahogany. At least he was using a glass. He looked up briefly under heavy eyelids as she hoisted herself onto the seat next to him. 

Benny glanced along the bar and she smiled in acknowledgement, he continued to polish his glasses with a rueful look at their mutual friend.

Her attention was caught by his knuckles, ominously purple and red, the bruises and blood carelessly uncleaned. Eyes wide she looked at Benny, who just shrugged.

"What did you do?" she asked softly, barely audible over the soft rock playing in the background. She fought the urge to knock the tumbler from its precarious swing between his thumb and forefinger as he swigged at the bourbon, lazily sucking it between his teeth. Lips drawn back in a faint grimace. The lack of response lengthened and stretched, as he rolled a small wooden figure backwards and forwards between the fingers of his other hand.

He flicked a glance at her concerned face and sighed, cupping the glass in his palm and placing it with gentle precision onto the bar. "It made me angry, seeing him hurt that way" he said quietly, spinning the glass, seemingly lost in the amber reflections and swirls. "Very angry."

She opened her mouth to speak, but decided to just listen instead. He pursed his lips, took one more swig and added. "It's the first time I've been out of Lawrence since I got back from Fort Bliss..." his voice tailed away.

She longed in that moment to hold him, to ease the burden on the broad shoulders. It was either that or shake him, but he had turned his head and she was paralysed by the look of tearful agony in his eyes. It shocked her to her core to see him this way, even after all these years of watching him slowly unravelling. Maybe this was finally the wake-up call, maybe this was enough to shake him out of his self-destructive downward spiral. 

"I swore after Raphael, that I would never let anyone touch him again, I gave him this,” he showed her the little wooden angel in his hand, “and I promised myself I would watch out for him… And I didn’t. I lost Sammy, and I... I just abandoned you both.”

“Then today,” he glanced at the bar clock, “correction yesterday, I bump into Ruby, and Ruby can’t wait to tell me how great it is that Cas is back in town. How relieved I must be to have him back. It was such a shame that his life was such a mess, but at least he had you and me.”

Ruby! It was Ruby behind the reception desk. Ruby who had wanted Sam, Ruby, who jealous of the friendship, had taken every opportunity to cause hurt and pain all through school. How the hell had she not recognised Ruby.

“And I couldn’t get it out of my head, you know. Why didn't he call me? Why wouldn’t you tell me he was here? Why wouldn’t you both come to me? And then I got to thinking. Why would you? I let you both down, and I couldn’t just leave it, I had to go and see that he was all right.”

“I must have walked the block three maybe four times, and then I found myself outside your door. And I’d knocked before I had time to stop myself, and he was there, battered and bruised, and it made me so angry.”

“How could someone do that to him? The dumb bastard. Why the hell would he be with someone like that? Jesus!" his voice turned into a strangled sob, "Why?"

She reached out hesitantly towards the shaking shoulders, as he cradled his head in his hands and wept. She had never seen him cry, not when they were children, not even at Sam's funeral or afterwards, he had just become cold and distant. He flinched as her fingers touched his shoulders, but he let her hand stay and she felt the tension gradually dissolving as his breathing eased. He mumbled something into his hands.

"Huh?"

He lifted his head and turned towards her, wiping his tear stained cheeks with the back of his sleeve with a gesture of impatience. For the first time, since he had returned home back in October she saw a glimmer of the old Dean, the strong, determined boy of their youth. "He’d thrown all his stuff out in the yard, his books, and his clothes, just out there in a pile. All his precious little bits and pieces, and there was his battered old biscuit box, the one he kept under his bed and would never let anyone look at. I picked it up and it fell open, and you know what was in there Charlie? A couple of pictures, the four of us at the lake, me stood with my damned car...and this.”

He slammed the little wooden angel down onto the bar, and a couple of patrons glanced up as the glass and bottle jumped and rattled on the counter. Benny raised himself up and glared them down.

Dean shook his head, reaching for the glass again, but he paused, turning his head and holding her eye. “Do you know the worst thing, Charlie, the very worst thing?" She squeezed his shoulder, unable to speak as the tears fell unheeded down her own cheeks. His eyes seemed suddenly so much clearer and brighter. She realised she was holding her breath, and let it out in a gentle sigh, smiling at him encouragingly. Had he finally realised, what she and Sam had worked out all those years ago?

"All these years. All this time and I never fucking noticed. Until I was taking that son of a bitch apart and I looked down at him. It was like punching my own reflection." He shoved the glass and bottle away in sudden disgust.


	6. Epilogue:  1st January, 2012.  2:00am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woah breathe, just breathe,  
> Oh breathe, just breathe,  
> Oh breathe, just breathe.

**1st January, 2011. 2:00am**

"So is it as good as you thought?" she asked, trying not to laugh at his breathless joy. He was glittering from barely suppressed delight. There had always been something contagious about Cas' excitement at the world. His giddy joy only ever shown to his closest friends.

"I'm buzzing," she pulled back from him slightly, wincing, her eardrum tingling as he shouted directly into her ear over the noise which surrounded them, "but man it's cold." He pushed his icy fingers inside her scarf against her neck to prove his point and she squealed.

"Lucky you have someone to keep you warm," she said archly. She knew just how to make him blush, regressing him back to a shy teenager with a crush. They both looked at Dean, who put down his coke bottle, suddenly aware that he was under scrutiny.

"Remind me," the familiar bow-legged gait approached, and he smiled. To see that beautiful smile, dear God, what she would have given only two short years ago to see him smile like that, when she had thought never to see it again "...who's damned stupid idea was it to do New Year in New York?" he growled.

She laughed.

They were kissing again, leaning into each other with the promise of love set free. "It's 2 am... it's a little late for New Years kisses, bitches..." she raised an eyebrow.

"We might not have a rewind button," muttered Cas, rolling just his eyes towards her, before gripping Dean even tighter, "but, it's always midnight somewhere."

Charlie rolled her eyes with characteristic amusement. "Get a room, you two."


End file.
